


We are not them

by LittleRedRidingHood



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 16:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRidingHood/pseuds/LittleRedRidingHood
Summary: often people say Arya is just like Lyanna and Sansa is just like her mother, however they both went through so much that I don't think that is entirely true anymore. Jon and Arya have both lost themselves and as for Elia, well she is a bit of a creation of my own.





	1. the lady of ice

When Sansa was born, she brought great joy to her mother. A beautiful little girl with big blue eyes and flaming red hair. She was a loved baby girl. Her father often called her his little princess and her brothers played fun games with her , in which she always played the role of the beautiful lady. When she got a little older everyone would tell her how pretty she was and how much she looked like lady Catelyn, so she got used to it. Her role was perfectly clear to her, she would be just like her mother. She’d marry a handsome lord and have sweet babies with him, preferably somewhere south. Her siblings became more and more of an annoyance to her. Robb only trained and he never wanted to play games with a princess in it anymore. Bran was always climbing, but at least he would sometimes play her knight in shining armor. Jon was the one who brought dishonor to her mother and her father and for that she didn’t want him anymore. But it was fair to say no one was worse than Arya. When her mother had told her she had a little sister, Sansa’s heart had been filled with joy. A little sister, to whom she could learn how to be a proper and pretty lady. Arya had been a bitter disappointment. She didn’t look anything like Sansa and she only wanted to do boyish things. There was something else Sansa didn’t like about Arya. Before Arya was born, she had been the little girl of her father but it became painfully clear that Arya had taken that position. Her father was never angry with Arya, not when she had bruises all over her body from fighting with the boys and not when she looked like a boy with messy hair and filth over her face. So Sansa made peace with being around her mother, who she adored more than anything.   
Now she was the lady of Winterfell. And no matter where she went everyone would comment on how much she looked like her late mother. Littlefinger being the most prominent in this case. But Littlefinger was dead, thanks to Arya. If Jon was going to be king with Dany as his queen he would leave the North to them. And she would rule alongside her sister. The one who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Arya swung the sword and she had passed the sentence. They were like two sides of the same coin and the same blood flew through their veins. Once Sansa would have liked to rule alone. They’d say the lady of Winterfell had beautiful, long red hair. They’d say she had the most beautiful blue eyes and that she could enchant anyone with those eyes. They’d say she was a good lady, just like lady Catelyn. But they forgot the current lady of Winterfell went through mindgames, manipulation, rape and torture. They didn’t see that her once porcelain skin was now like steel. They didn’t see the ice in her eyes, they failed to see that she who once was so much like her mother, wasn’t anymore. Because when her mother died, because of the love of her children. Sansa’s heart became frozen.   
In later years Sansa married Tyrion Lannister for the second time and gave him twin daughters. The oldest girl, named Catelyn, had long red hair and beautiful green eyes and reminded Sansa often of herself in younger years. The second girl, named Larya, had Tyrion’s blond hair, one grey eye and one blue eye. She was undeniably bright. And sometimes the lady of Casterly Rock felt truly at peace, but it never lasted long, since her old wounds never really healed.


	2. the strategist of sunspear

She was the first daughter of Ellaria and the fifth of her father Oberyn Martell. She had been a pretty baby girl, with big brown eyes, a sweet laugh and a sunkissed skin. She was given the name Elia Sand, named after Princess Elia Targaryen, the late sister of her father and automatically became part of the sandsnakes. When she was about fife years old she noticed that her father would often be angry with her. Once she had run away from the water gardens in tears, because of her father’s yelling. Arianne had found her and dried her tears. ‘Why are you crying my sweet cousin? What is wrong.’ Elia had looked up with watery eyes. ‘He doesn’t love me, daddy hates me.’ She had said. ‘What are you talking about? He loves you very, very much.’ ‘No he doesn’t he always gets mad with me, even when he just says my name.’ She had said. Arianne had sighed. ‘It wasn’t always your name you know? Once the name Elia belonged to your father’s sister. Princess Elia Martell. Your father loved her very much, but she was murdered by a dog. He named you after her, but you look a lot like her, and it frightens him, he doesn’t want to lose his daughter like he lost his sister.’   
That night Elia Sand ran to her father and gave him a big long hug. ‘I won’t die, I promise.’ She said. Her father gave her a kiss on her forehead and smiled at her. ‘Sweet dreams, Lady Lance.’ But when Elia grew older he feared more and more for her wellbeing. Elia was the spitting image of his sister. She had big, brown intriguing eyes, she was short and she had long thick brown hair. Sometimes she looked so fragile compared to her sisters the fear almost swallowed him. However he always saw how she straightened her back and held her head high, when he saw that small gesture he was given hope for her life. Elia Sand wasn’t a killer and Oberyn knew it. She fought well and she was extremely talented with a lance and a weapon of her own. The weapon was one she had designed herself. It was a short spear, with a long point and the thing looked incredibly bright when she wielded it. She had named it Sun and Sun went everywhere with Elia. However Elia couldn’t kill, she could never and he feared that if she would be in danger once she’d hesitate and get herself killed. Luckily the girl inherited her uncle’s wit. She was apparently a great cyvasse player and battle strategist, at least according to Doran Martell. Oberyn was too impatient for those games.   
Elia hated Winterfell, it was cold and the people were uptight, except for Arya and Dany. But she had come here for revenge and she had gotten it. Her father, mother and her older sisters were dead. Arianne had sent her to help the north fight Cersei, and thanks to Elia’s strategic plans they had won. Soon she would be able to return home. People apparently found it necessary to tell her she looked like her late aunt as if she didn’t already know it. ‘My lady, I owe you a lot if it wasn’t for your help I don’t know if we would’ve won both battles. They say you are just like your aunt. If the stories about Elia Martell are true then I certainly see it.’ The king in the North had told her. ‘My king, with all respect I am nothing like her. My aunt was a rose born without thorns, she was kind, gentle and clever. And she was raped and murdered after she’d seen her children die. Now this whole affair was partly the fault of your sweet mother. But let me tell you when the gods made me, they didn’t make the same mistake again. I came with thorns.’ The king had nodded thanked her again and walked away. Elia sighed, she always hated how people thought of her aunt as weak. Someone who wasn’t a manipulator like lady Sansa or a warrior like lady Arya, or a queen like Dany was always seen as weak. But someone like Elia wasn’t weak. They were just truly good, too good for this world and it was a pity roses without thorns can’t grow in this world.   
When Elia Sand was legitimized she didn’t really gave a crap. ‘Now you truly have her name.’ Ned Dayne told her when she was back in Dorne. ‘O would you shut up!’ she threw a pillow at his head when he tried to kiss her. ‘Of course my lovely lady.’ ‘You are an idiot.’ She said, however this time letting him shower kisses all over her.


	3. the night wolf of the north

When she opened her grey eyes for the first time Ned’s heart almost stopped. Arya Stark was without a doubt the favorite child of Ned. He never tried to have favorites and he loved all of his children deeply, but she was like a new chance. Lyanna was back and he found himself praying she wasn’t dealt the same faith as her late aunt. Arya owned a heart of gold. Where ever she went, whomever she met, people loved her. Especially the commoners, when they’d meet the little lady, they’d laugh at her stories, at her fighting spirit and the great gestures she made with her hands. What made him sad was to see that the world had no place for her. For her who was so wild and beautiful.  
Over the years the heart of gold slowly turned black. Because she went through hell and back, she was now not the same girl as she always was. She had lost herself. She who once was Arya Stark had, had so many names by now, that she would sometimes wonder if Arya Stark was nothing but a dream. Some days she would wonder if Jon would recognize her, those days were by far the worst of all. She had been Blind Beth, Nym, Weasel, Squab, the ghost of Harrenhal, Mercedene, Cat of the Canals and more. However there were days when she loved Braavos. When she was in the taverns laughing with the whores or when some Braavosi sailors would tell her about their journeys. Still, Arya Stark was heavily scarred, the murders she had witnessed and committed, the torture she went through, the days when only a worm filled her stomach, the loss of her family and ultimately the loss of her own identity.   
When she arrived back home people would whisper she was a winter rose. Always behind her back, nobody dared to call her gorgeous in her face. Her thick, halflong brown hair, her grey eyes, her toned skin, many jaws dropped when she walked into a room. People old enough to remember her aunt whispered the ghost of Lyanna Stark had arrived. They’d call her the night wolf, for she was always accompanied by Nymeria and she only had to snap her fingers and hundreds of wolves would stand by her. She had became a living legend, but she didn’t know who she was anymore.   
‘They say you are the new Lyanna.’ A pretty Dornish girl sat herself besides her. ‘so they say, who are you?’ Arya asked. ‘Elia Sand, the new Elia apparently. Are you really like her?’ Elia asked, while sipping her wine. ‘I am not pretty, Lyanna was beautiful.’ Arya answered, cause even after all those years she still couldn’t see her own beauty. ‘Oh would you shut up. You are absolutely beautiful. Look at every guy staring at you. Granted they’d fuck anything, but you are beautiful, own it.’ The girl said. Arya decided she liked the woman. ‘You are not her, you would never do anything to harm your family, you are not nearly as naïve as she was.’ Elia looked around the room. ‘Your cousin is definitely one of those staring fuckers.’ Elia said, while pointing at Jon.   
Years later they had put a crown made out of onyx on her head and hailed her queen in the North. Next to her Jon stood holding her hand. She loved him more than anything. Their relationship had been a weird one. But it was their relationship. Arya had lost everything her own name and identity. Jon took a dagger through the heart for her and since he awakened she was the only thing on his mind. When he had seen her again, he didn’t see his sister or his cousin. He saw Arya Stark, the one he needed to protect because she always protected him. Some would say it was a happy ending for Lyanna. Though Arya wasn’t her, cause Arya saw more pain and grew into something far more dangerous than her aunt had ever been.   
All over the kingdom songs about her were written. About the girl who survived what no one should have survived, about the warrior queen, about the wild blooded wolf girl, about the new Lyanna. But most of all she was a sign for girls all over the kingdom, that they could fight, that their size or status didn’t matter. It didn’t take long for those girls to arrive North and join the army of wolves under the command of the night wolf


End file.
